The Angel looked glorious in her nakedness, her magnificent wings - now neatly folded - a dazzling whiteness in the warm sunshine. Her golden hair and pale skin glowed, somehow reflecting the light and illuminating the whole area. The white robe she had been wearing when she flew into the Garden had already slid to the ground and now lay pooled on the greensward. Her sword stood nearby, its point forced deep into the turf, and her polished breastplate - its curved and beaten metal shaped perfectly to fit around her breasts - leant against it.

The resplendent creature was admiring herself in one of the many pools of sweet water that dotted the Garden. This was a particularly fine example, bordered by trees on one side and by soft green grass on the other. It was a place where many beings of all kinds would come to swim and bathe, and to refresh themselves.

The day was very warm, even for watchers hidden in the shade, like I was. The Angel was clearly feeling hot and in need of some relief from her discomfort. She knelt and bathed her face with the cool water, then cupped one breast with one hand as she poured a handful of water over herself. She repeated this action several times, anointing both her breasts and her belly with the refreshment of the limpid pool. Even at a distance, I could see her nipples harden from the chill of the cool waters.

Now cleansed and refreshed, the Angel lay back on the soft grass, verdantly green and cropped smooth by the actions of the herds of sheep and goats that also live here in the Garden. She was, evidently, now much more relaxed and, perhaps thinking herself unobserved, she began to touch herself, her fingertips exploring the lips between her legs and the sensitive regions within in much the way I might have done myself.

I was indeed very tempted to mimic the action myself. Few here in the Garden wore clothes with any frequency, preferring to adorn themselves with flowers and polished stones, and even with dyes and colourings extracted from various plants, rather than conceal themselves with anything other than the most diaphanous of weaves.

So, I was myself quite naked, lying with my belly and breasts against the cool mossy boulders under the trees, sheltered from the glare of the sun and the heat of the day. Intrigued by the Angel's uninhibited directness, I slid a hand under my thigh and between my legs.

There was, I found, just a little tenderness around my openings. I had spend much of the previous three hours in the pleasant company of my dear friend Adana, exploring each others bodies with mouth and tongue and gently probing fingers - and less gentle probing when our needs for satisfaction became even more urgent. I was, quite simply, satiated by the comforts that Adana had imparted and I had delivered unto her in return. With only the faintest twinges of regret, I withdrew my hand and returned my attention to the glorious creature pleasuring herself by the pool.

As I watched, the wondrous being laying on the greensward moaned and writhed, obviously in the throes of joyous rapture. Suddenly, in the miraculous ways of Angels, a male member emerged from between her legs. She curled her fingers and caressed the impressive manhood, engendering yet more cries of lust and pleasure. It was a penis as long and as thick and as hard as any I had observed while watching the boys at their playtime.

This was, I should admit, something of a habit of mine: to watch others at their pleasures while concealed nearby. Not that I imagined any of my friends and partners would be upset by my observations; in truth, the idea of being watched while Adana, or Helen, or any of my other playmates licked and caressed my body was itself incredibly exciting. I felt myself becoming just a little wet at the thought, despite my recent intimate attentions.